


When the Light Goes Out

by purlstitch



Category: Hell on Wheels (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purlstitch/pseuds/purlstitch
Summary: Mei thinks about Cullen in the dark.
Relationships: Cullen Bohannon/Fong | Mei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	When the Light Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the tent scene of episode 5x6 Hungry Ghosts. That scene just really inspired me to write something for Mei. 
> 
> Fic title and some lines are from episode dialogue.

_“For your ghosts. Those you have buried and those you could not. When the light goes out, they will be home.”_

Mei lies in her sleeping bag and stares at the candle flame. 

The little warmth it gives makes her hesitate to blow it out. She wants to hold it close and be warm, but she knows that if she stares too long it will start to hurt her eyes. 

She has stared too long at candles today anyway. She is already hurting. Why not add more pain to the journey? Why wait another day? 

She thinks about the candles in the water. She had wanted to stay and watch them float down the river, to chase them on the current until they had burnt to nothing, but it was cold and it was dark and she was tired. And she had wanted to stay close to him.

_“The night is cold. Too cold to sleep outside.”_

There are many things she does not know about the man who lies beside her in the darkness. She wants to turn to him, to see how he would react. To stare at his body as it shivers, and tries to fight the cold, and tries to sleep. She wants to watch him. 

He had watched her with the candles today. She watched him as he tried not to watch her. But he watched. He watched her, and the candles, and the boats, and the water, and her. He had seemed unsure about entering the tent tonight, which was strange for a man who always seemed sure of himself, of where he stood and what he was owed. Maybe it was due to her presence, to guilt over what had happened today.

Mei was unsure if she would feel the same hurt and anger tomorrow over what had happened to her father. Probably. She was in a strange place in a strange land, and though she knew it was not his fault, she knows she will still blame him. For a time. She is unsure if he will feel that blame. Does he feel guilt? 

Would he feel that guilt if she turned to him and breathed his name and reached for him? Would he let her cross the small distance between them, or would he turn to meet her? Her eyes would show her pain and her want. If she fit her hips against his, would she be able to look him in the eye? She wants him to look. She wants him to see her. 

_“I lost my wife and boy.”_

She watches the candle flicker. 

There are so many things about him she does not know. If she turned and touched him and looked, would he see her? Or would he see a trail of people he has left behind?

Men like him always seem to leave a trail of women behind them. How long is the trail that winds behind him? If she followed it, how far would she have to go to find the first body -- who would she find hidden in the forest, behind trees and under rocks. Would she find any men in between, bodies left out to bloat under the harsh American sun, blood trailing from their eyes and their ears and their chests? 

The American sun is hot and punishing. She hates it even as she wants it to come and melt the last of the snow off the mountains. 

His body looked like it had seen too much sun. She had looked at his eyes as they lit the candles by the water, and she had seen the sun in their reflections of the flames. She was not sure who was being punished by the heat. 

She wants the heat. 

_“I’m sorry.”_

Does he want her? It is warm in the tent now. She hears another sigh. Maybe he still feels cold. Would he feel warm to her? Would she to him?

The ground is hard beneath her sleeping bag, adding to the dull pain she feels in her shoulders and her knees. The river had not been kind when it swept her father away. It responded to her pleas for his body with the kisses of rocks against her skin. The kisses were crushing presses that became dark bruises under her sleeves.

Would he crush her?

_“Mh goi.”_

She closes her eyes and feels the flame of the candle dance across her eyelids. She should blow it out if she wants to be able to use it again on the journey. But she is still cold.

Is he cold? She wants to climb out of her sleeping bag and onto his body. She thinks she would risk the cold for him.

_“Thank you… for everything, bossman.”_

She wants to turn and grab him and show him her thanks without words. She wants to hold his face in her hands and press her mouth onto his in the darkness.

The candle flickers. She thinks about her father. 

_“Cullen. It’s Cullen.”_

Cullen.

Mei blows the candle out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mh goi = (唔該) / Thank you
> 
> \----
> 
> Shows up to fandom five years late with Starbucks. 
> 
> It's been a (really long) while since I last wrote fic. Thank you Hell on Wheels for inspiring me to write again!


End file.
